The Neverending Story ends...

I don't think this is quite what you are expecting...BE WARNED!

1984, A year that brought us the Apple Macintosh, an Eastern Bloc boycotted Olympic Summer games in L.A. and an immolated Pepsi-touting Michael Jackson. As an aside, it was also in this year that the first robot related death in the United States was reported at a factory in Jackson, Michigan; in your face, James Cameron!

In a year of aforementioned excitement, replete with flaming pedophiles, killer robots and political tantrums, 1984 saw the release of what was arguably to become a minor cult favorite film, The Neverending Story.

She looks older.

The Neverending Story, a pharmatropically fantastic tale indicative of the genre circa 1980’s, follows the (mis)adventures of a young lad named Bastion through a fantasy world (would you believe ‘Fantasia’) not unlike that of the Labyrinth, although without quite so much of a budget. And no David Bowie either. Come to think of it, it is nothing like the Labyrinth.

“Don’t touch the hair…”

Bastion is a shy youth, perpetually taunted by his peers. To complicate matters, his mother is no longer a member of the air-breathing club. Quite frankly, I believe Bastion’s father, Gerald “Major Dad” McRaney, did her in with his cholesterol-in-a-glass morning multi-egg beverage.

Four parts raw huevos, one part O.J. - WTF?!

Naturally, Bastion finds himself at odds with his misdirected, yet caring father and does what any confused youth would do in this situation; he flees to the nearest pedophile.

“Bastion, your mother is Delta Burke.”

En route to his destination, Bastion narrowly escapes a menacing gauntlet of wedgies from a trifecta of hood-rats. He cleverly accomplishes this by dumpster diving before well before Hollywood hackers popularized the sport.

Dorks.

Narrowly escaping, the venue to which Bastion has fled is a bookstore. This of course is a natural place for any shy and introspective protagonist. After grandpa McKosherPants grills Bastion of his recent scuttlebutt, he is introduced to a mysterious tome which he is summarily instructed not to touch – unlike the shopkeeper's magic pants.

“Oy! Have something for you I do…”

Again, Bastion does what any confused youth would do in this situation; he robs the old man of his book and runs.

“Exhibit A - dun dun dun”

As Bastion is now a thieving Felon, he decides that a little B-and-E might help his cred out in the joint. Thusly, Bastion sneaks into his school after hours and ascends to the rafters as an encroaching storm looms near.

F.U. authority!

I believe this to be either a special-ed room or where the teachers go to smoke.

What the hell kind of Amityville Horror school is this?!

Gathering his thoughts, Bastion grabs himself some floor and cracks his still smoking hot book. It is here that the story “takes off” as it were – takes off like the shuttle Challenger.

Our story drops us promptly into an odd little gathering of panoply freakshow creatures. Said creatures appear preoccupied with their respective idle business until a calamitous event, or some sound engineer rattling sheet metal, spooks them into flight.

What…

...the...

...shite?!

As Bastard-er Bastion continues to read, we are transported back to Fantasia’s palace-o-power for a bit of storytelling. Mace Windu laconically informs us that a terrible force is plaguing the land; The Nothing!

“This counsel recognizes you as a member, but you are not yet a master…”

As Fantasia is comprised of myriad something’s, the spreading Nothing subsequently nullifies their existence creating in its wake, well, nothing. Right then, you get the picture. Enter protagonist number two: Atreyu – A.K.A. Battlestar Galactica’s (1978-1979) adorable rascal, Boxey.

“Oooo, time to accessorize…”

As many fantasy film adults of the 1980’s inherently lack a natural ability to save the world, Boxey is given a magical happy meal prize and charged with a quest to save Fantasia from the Nothing.

Atreyu sets off on his journey across scenic Canad-err Fantasia atop his trusty white steed. It is not long before Atreyu realizes he is now on the wrong side of the tracks, or rather in a swamp of sadness.

“Nooo, Wilbur, that’s not a carrot…”

To his chagrin, Atreyu loses his ride at this point. The horse apparently succumbs to a nihilistic fit of depression and decides to slowly sink to its death in runny oatmeal. Both Boxey and Bastion are saddened.

F'ing Boo-hoo!

Atreyu, now without his equine buddy, loses sight of the objective at hand. He briefly contemplates a career in oatmeal breathing before a giant tortoise is encountered.

Jimmy Carter?

That’s right, a big, friggin' turtle! And get this, it talks. To be sure, the giant talking turtle has nothing relevant to say thus infuriating Atreyu.

As everyone knows, all reptiles and cold blooded creepies exhibit a propensity for catching colds. This turtle is no exception. He sneezes so hard that our androgynous protagonist is blown off his perch into the beckoning oatmeal.

Upon awakening, Atreyu is a bit confused and unnerved at the sight of a flying cotton candy hot dog. Thankfully, the creature is quite intelligent albeit sounding as if it has down syndrome.

“Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare…”

Puff the magic dragon informs Boxey that he has taken him like %99.99 of the ba-zillion miles to his destination. This is convenient as his horse, even if among the living, would likely not have survived the journey. I understand this is fantasy, but even as a youth, I found myself questioning this dichotomy of logic.

Now closer to his destination, Atreyu chances upon a friendly, old gnome-like couple.

“Woman, go make me some chitlins!”

The old man appears to have a penchant for inventions and domestic abuses. He invites Atreyu up to his homemade lookout tower upon learning of his quest for the Nothing. It is here that Atreyu learns he must pass through Fantasia’s equivalent of airport security in order to proceed to the Southern Oracle.

Hmm...those sphinx ladies tell me it must be cold

In a terrifying scene burned into many a youth’s mind, Atreyu dashes through the gates of Morador amidst a barrage of deadly disco laser beams.

Curiously, one may wonder why Atreyu did not simply fly pink rover over this trial, thus circumventing possible harm.

Safely past his first trial in the desert, Atreyu meets with a second during a freak snowstorm: Looking into a mirror. No B.S.

“Candyman, Candyman, Candyman…”

Apparently there is something deeper to this trial as both Atreyu and Bastion, though by proxy, go ape balls. Thankfully, both eventually realize it is just a bad hair day – perpetually so in the case of Bastion’s flowbee / bowl cut.

Atreyu proceeds through the mirror and wanders aimlessly. Bastion reads further and ponders life, the universe and everything.

“I am SO going to be raped in prison.”

Atreyu stumbles upon an old friend of the sedimentary variety. Unfortunately, this creature now complains that the rocks are empty and no longer satisfy him; he blames the ballooning Nothingness. I say if you are on the rock as long as this chump, it ain’t the Nothing that fails to satisfy. Get help, man!

Just say NO to the rockman!

Atreyu, in a moment of great compassion, ditches his junkie friend and ambles about the ruins of a forgotten city.

The writing is on the wall.

Suddenly, Atreyu is not alone. A wolf-creature, puppeteered by a narcoleptic high school shop teacher, reveals itself. Atreyu questions the wolf of its business to which it fills him in: It is an agent of the Nothing and has been stalking Atreyu since the oatmeal swamp.

Atreyu, we learn fights pretty well – for a girl.

“Damn it mister man, my manicure is ruined!”

Atreyu coolly dispatches the wolf with a conveniently available “object of sharpness”. (d6 +5 damage to retarded wolves)

As fate would have it, after viciously impaling the wolf, all hell breaks loose. The Nothing has spread itself to virtually every corner of Fantasia. Atreyu is relegated to riding his pink hot dog (...) about the scattered ruins of Fantasia.

The picture says it all.

Alas, not all hope is lost. A small, though important nibble of Fantasia yet remains intact. In said nibble resides the Child-like Empress whom I would have immediately named Jailbait upon her request.

Are you a little boy?

Jailbait, in a grand attempt to save her crumbling kingdom, magically reaches through the fabric of reality and appeals to Bastion through their common lexical medium.

The Nothing, she explains, is a manifestation of peoples’ disbelief. In order for Fantasia to exist, someone must believe. Bastion acts as accordingly.

Go tear off a piece you lametard!

Jailbait demands Bastion name her, an act that would fulfill requisite belief in line with Fantasia’s continued existence. After much hedging, Bastion complies.

“Please, I have virtually no gag reflex…”

Upon review of the DVD, I cannot make out the name Bastion shouts; however, if one is to read the book, I believe the name is some hippy invention such as moonbeam or moonchild.

Impending disaster thwarted, a recently named Jailbait presents the last remnant of Fantasia to Bastion. She instructs him to wish for Fantasia’s rebirth by way of Atrayu’s McCharm, also convieniently found on the cover of Bastion’s stolen book.

“Smell my finger…”

Like it’s a tough decision. If only New Orleans could rebuild this fast.

Bastion takes a flying hot dog nickel tour of the new and imporved Fantasia, flashing by the films' various characters in the process.

“I’m the king of the world!”

What would a great children’s fantasy film be without imbuing life’s important moral lessons such as theft and revenge upon its impressionable young audience before ending? LAME! That’s what.

Dorks, pt.2

That’s right; Bastion rides his pink demon right out of Fantasia and into the heart of the city to gleefully exact sweet, sweet revenge upon his previous tormentors.

RUN motherf'ers! AI YI YI YI YI YI YI

And that’s about how it went down.

- - - - -

Please note, the author is extremely well aware of the many omissions and liberties taken with this article; it is intentional and theatrical.

I sincerely hope readers enjoy this retro diversion. Do check out the film if you have not already; it’s kinda’ groovy.

Very amusing, almost devoid of the (widely believed to be compulsory) English mistakes. Cynical and adult in humour, yet without unnecessary crudity or diversions. That gag reflex gag (pun intended) was brilliantly embedded.

A very impressive article, and unlike so many that start out strong, yours stayed strong throughout.

Out of interest (usually I would look this up, but today I'm just too lazy), is the old crone the same actress who played the sorceress Razzel (how do you spell it?) in the movie Willow. And is that Allisan Hannigan (again, I don't remember how to spell it and I'm feeling lazy) who plays the Empress?

Encore! As long as eternity doesn't last too long, I think we will all be eternally grateful if you bring us another article on par with this one.

My God, that was hillarious. Now if you could do the sequel. (Somone gave it to me, I've been keeping in it's original shrink-wrapped state to maintain it's collectible value, the fact that doing so keeps me from actually viewing it is entirely coincidental)